


lifetimes

by AerisaHale (KarasuKyra)



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2018-08-11 16:08:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7899190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KarasuKyra/pseuds/AerisaHale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They have lived and loved lifetimes together.</p><p>--</p><p>Snippets of moments between Sara and Nyssa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. explicitly stated

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be moments between Sara and Nyssa, anywhere from the moment they met to lifetimes after, and everything in between. Whatever comes to me. Prompts and ideas are welcome. Feel free to say hi and let me know what you think! <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nyssa and Sara define their relationship while hiding down a servant's corridor.

“Was that...a joke?” Nyssa asks slowly.

Sara flushes and looks at Nyssa's boots before she meets the Heir to the Demon's eyes again. “It was supposed to be, yeah.”

Walking slowly forward, Nyssa lets Sara fall back with every step until the blonde's back hits the wall. Nyssa watches Sara's throat work as she swallows and the Heir places her palm against the wall by Sara's head and uses her free hand to tuck blonde hair behind the woman's ear. Nyssa murmurs, “You are far above such jokes.”

“I'm really not,” Sara says before sge pulls Nyssa into a kiss, letting herself be pressed against the wall by the taller brunette. “But I appreciate the point you're trying to make.”

They spend the next few moments with every part of them possible pressed together. Sara gets lost in a heady mix of love and lust until she hears shoes scuffing down the corridor and around the corner. She pushes Nyssa away from herself and whispers, “Someone's coming.”

“Just a servant,” Nyssa breathes and leans back down to resume kissing the blonde.

“Who could tell your father.” Sara's eyebrow arches in a way that reignites the heat pooling low in Nyssa's belly. “Who will then, probably literally, kill me. My father would just—“

Pain morphs Sara's face and Nyssa wishes she could heal that wound, but her father would allow Nyssa to be with Sara before he would allow Sara to see her family again. It is the way of the League. All attachments to their former life is beaten out of initiates; Sara is just stronger than any pain human hands could inflict and Nyssa adores her for that. The Heir pulls Sara into a tight hug and whispers gently against her ear, “What would your father do, _habibti_?”

There are tears running down Sara's face and she smiles. “To be honest, he'd probably try to shoot you, but you're faster, I think.”

Nyssa kisses her hard, tries to kiss the pain away. “I will have to commit that fact to memory.”

“You'd meet my dad?”

“That is what couples do, is it not?”

Suddenly, Sara is shy in a way Nyssa has only seen on a handful of occasions and she whispers, “I just wasn't sure you wanted to. It's not that I don't think you love me, we've just never...discussed that.”

“Oh, _habibti_. I wish to spend the rest of my life at your side, and that means I might one day meet your family. It is not allowed in the League, but if there is a way, I am sure you will find it. I love you, Sara, with all my soul.”

“I love you, too, Nyssa. You made me strong when I was weak, and loved me through it all. I have never loved anyone the way I do you. If we weren't assassins that could die tomorrow, I might ask you to marry me.”

Nyssa's face falls slack and she is stunned. “Marriage is not a bond that is taken lightly in the League.”

“ _Our_ bond is not something I take lightly, Nyssa. I am yours, body and soul, for as long as I draw breath.”

They get lost in kissing one another again, and if someone walked by in the time they were talking or after, it was lost on the two women. Nyssa supposed her father would find out one way or another, and whether he liked it or not, Nyssa would not be parted from Sara, forcibly or otherwise. A fire burned in her soul for the woman in her arms and she would never let it die.


	2. vindication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An alternate ending to season 2 of Arrow. Takes place from Heir to the Demon forward and begins on the docks where Nyssa begs Sara to come home.

“Now come _home_ ,” Nyssa cries and Sara is lost in the memory of a priceless moment when the home Nyssa invoked was a sanctuary to her.

-

_Sara groans and squeezes her eyes shut. Her entire body is a throbbing mass of pain, indistinguishable in its intensity. She lays there and bears it as she waits for her jumbled thoughts to coalesce. Once she can differentiate up from down, she relaxes her eyelids and peeks through her eyelashes before fully blinking her eyes open._

_At first, all she can do is gaze at the sky, unable to do much more than twitch her fingers. As she gets lost in the cloudless blue, she finds herself contemplating how she ended up in this situation. She thinks it started when she found the original birth certificates and it finally put them on the trail for the woman calling the shots in the organization. No, wait. No, it started when Sara pressed her lips against Nyssa's quickly, before delving into a particularly disturbing case of human trafficking. So, she supposes, she only has herself to blame. She can't stand the mistreatment and abuse humans inflict on one another._

_Only minutes after her reminiscing and staring into the sky, Nyssa walks into view above her, looking quite injured and panicked, her hair broken free from its bindings. “_ Habibti _, I am so glad you're safe.”_

_Sara will never admit it, but her eyes might have watered not for pain, and she found the strength to rasp out, “You're gonna have to scrape me off the ground.”_

_Nyssa's words are accented, with joyful relief and a huff of air that is as close to a laugh as the Heir to the Demon gets, when she cries, “Let's go home.”_

–

So many moments in which home was Nyssa crush Sara under the weight of how much she _misses_ her love. Only months have passed since she had fled Nanda Parbat, but it felt like lifetimes without Nyssa to anchor her. She finds her emotions becoming more and more unchecked as time passes and it's a particularly terrible evening when Nyssa appears in Sara's life once more. It destroys a part of her to push Nyssa away, but she has to shield her family at all costs.

Then Nyssa kidnaps her mother. She is horrified, shocked, angry to see Nyssa pushed to such lengths—to know she is the one who propelled her level-headed partner to be torn between her duty to her father and loyalty to the Head of the Demon, and her love for Sara. She has unforgivably hurt the woman she loves for the family she must protect.

It is some time after that, when she is giggling at Oliver accidentally phoning them from his pocket that she hears  _his_ voice. She starts contemplating the girl she was before she called herself _Ta-er Al Sahfer_. Slade Wilson is a calamitous part of her past. She is stalked by a dead woman's memory. It is a shadow that walks over even  _Ta-er Al Sahfer_ and she would pay for her sins.

In desperation, she reaches out to Nyssa. The Heir knew all the dirty parts of Sara and _still_ razed an entire city to find her when she vanished. They meet on the docks, perhaps to act as a salve to the stab of their former memories of the warehouse. Nyssa holds her in a way that makes Sara feel strong enough to bear the weight of the world's problems, even though she can barely manage her own.

Endless hours pass as Sara remembers how to fall in love again. She knows Nyssa feels the same way. All the little ways that she knows Nyssa settle into the forefront of her consciousness again. It felt like she was finally done running. The calm awareness of resolution settled over her and it seemed Nyssa had reached the same decision.

Nyssa sets their new beginning in motion. “Home doesn't have to be Nanda Parbat. Home is you, Sara. You are my home. I cannot come yet, but I will move heaven and hell itself to be reunited with you. One day I will carry the mantle of Ra'as al Ghul and I will command with my love beside me, wherever that may be."

Sara's knees buckle under the weight of Nyssa's words, and she weeps, “You _are_ home, Nyssa. I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere. I've never _wanted_ to find someone as much as I have wanted you. I have made terrible decisions in my _need_ —to survive, to protect my family, but you? You are the best thing that could have happened to me and fate has never been a part of my beliefs, but what else can it be?”

It is now that Nyssa sinks to the ground beside Sara and takes her in her arms.

Sara curls in to the arms of the strongest, bravest woman she knows and continues, “I have saved as many lives as I have taken since the Queen's Gambit was lost and the lives that I have taken were almost always abhorrent people. It took being away to realize it, but you must be my fate. My life has been fulfilled in a way that never would have been possible without you. I love you, Nyssas al Ghul. Please forgive me.”

Nyssa is quiet and breathless. “ _Ta-er al Sahfer_ , you are vindicated."

 


	3. things we have loved, people we have lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nyssa and Sara are traveling through a small Tibetan city, when they come across a League bow with ties to Nyssa's past.

Around them, wares clank, shopkeepers barter, and children run everywhere. Smells from the many food vendors around them mix and swirl in the Tibetan heat. The cry of a camel can be heard in the distance.

Readjusting the blue and gold headscarf, Sara turns to keep following Nyssa's leisurely pace through the market stalls in the shopping district of the town they were staying in. Nyssa told Sara that she knows of one of the most beautiful Tibetan monasteries, located only five miles south of their safe house. It has been some time since they had time to visit any sort of market. Sara suggests they swing through the shopping district on their way out of town.

They are weaving around a particularly crowded stall when what was being offered catches Sara's attention. She grabs Nyssa's sleeve to keep her from venturing further away. She points her chin at the bow sitting on the vendor's cart and Nyssa gets a better look at it. The League's symbol is burned into the wood at the end of the bow. It can only have been made by a member.

The Heir to the Demon moves through the bodies to the front and asks, “How much are you selling this for, sir?”

“13,000. Or best offer,” he drawls, smirking and pointing a thumb towards a man dressed in black, standing at the corner of the cart, “and he just offered 50.”

“I'll give you 80,” Nyssa says authoritatively, shoulders squaring in challenge.

“100,” the other man fires back.

Sara slinks beside the man and crosses her arms, “What interest do you have in this bow?”

“It belonged to my wife's sister. She was a member of the League; she had no personal belongings, other than this bow.”

Laying 100,000 RMB on the cart and grabbing the bow, Nyssa inspects it closely. She can hear the man start to protest and she hears Sara move to block his advance. Nyssa's eyes widen and she looks up at him. “You're sister-in-law was Talihah al Saab? Named for Talia al Ghul, yes?”

The man looks stunned. “Yes, you know of her?”

Nyssa's smiles, reminiscent. “Yes, we used to sneak down servant's halls as girls. We sometimes trained together when I was allowed to be with the other children. I am Nyssa al Ghul, Heir to the Demon. Your sister-in-law was a dear friend in my youth.”

The man smiles and moves around Sara to grab Nyssa's hand. “You must come meet my wife. Her name is Kalilah al Akilah and I am Matin. Come, she would love to hear your stories.”

Nyssa and Sara share a look in which Sara tells Nyssa it's her decision. The dark-haired woman nods and allows herself to be led, grabbing the blonde woman as she passes. “My beloved will be accompanying us as well.”

Matin just nods. “Of course. Kali will be delighted. Any friend of Talilah is a friend of ours!”

They are led to the opposite end of the city, where they meet a very pregnant woman in her mid-thirties. She ushers them inside and tries to feed them _thukpa bhatuk_ , a soup common to this area, as if they were old friends.

Nyssa and Kalilah share stories of Talilah for the next several hours. Sara just listens and idly sips the soup she was given. Nyssa has mentioned Talilah a few times before but she did not often speak of her childhood. Hearing her speak now, she sounds ten years younger, alive with fond memories of a childhood friend.

As it grows dark, Nyssa uses a pause in conversation to share another meaningful look with Sara before she turns back to her hosts. “In the League, we have a ceremonial goodbye that I know Talilah would wish you to attend. Please bring her bow and meet me outside of town in an hour.”

–

Sara and Nyssa are finishing their preparations when Matin and Kalilah arrive, bow in Matin's hand. Matin hands it to Nyssa who strokes the length of it carefully. She turns to Kalilah. “One of the first things a member of the League must do once they are initiated, is learn to create their own weapon. They are given training in many different weapons until they pick one to be used as their primary arms. She spent months crafting the particular curve of this bow and bows are what are traditionally used to dispatch a member's body after death.”

With that, Nyssa draws the string back after nocking one of her own arrows. Sara lights the flammable tip on fire and Nyssa releases it in the direction of the pyre they built. It explodes with light and she hears Kalilah gasp beside her. “Fire is an honorable way to be put to rest, Kalilah. Your sister is at peace.”

The woman collapsed into her husband's arms and Sara's arms wrap around Nyssa's waist, the blond's chin resting on her shoulder, she whispers in her beloved's ear, “Should I go before you, I want you to find my family, and offer them this peace. Take the necklace my father gave me—you know the one—and make sure he gets it.”

“As you wish, beloved.” Nyssa turns to press a kiss against Sara's temple.

The four of them stare at the smoldering ashes long after the fire burns out.

 


	4. pieces of me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A break between missions lands Sara and Nyssa alone, with some down time.

 “Nyssa, have you ever eaten a cheeseburger?” Sara asks out of the blue.

Looking up from the book she's reading, Nyssa takes in the woman before her. Sara is sitting cross legged on the couch, with their laptop in her lap. It was an odd sight among the splendor of the Heir's status. An entire wing of the mountainous compound was dedicated to the Heir to Ra's al Ghul. The interior of which was draped with tapestries and candles, filled with only the finest furniture in the Eastern world. Sara is so glaringly different than her surroundings. Like a street child found wandering a mansion. Sara is not so much dirty—just different. The stillness that surrounds any League member can be found when looking at her, but sitting cross-legged on their couch with a laptop in her lap, it leaves Nyssa with a surreal feeling.

“Well?” Sara asks again, impatient.

Nyssa tilts her head and ponders for a moment. “I've been to countries that serve them, I think, but no, I do not believe I have tried one.”

“My sister and I used to get them at this place—and a shake, too. Nothing beats a burger, fries, and a shake. Maybe I'm feeling nostalgic, but all I want is a burger. I don't suppose you sell ground beef in Nanda Parbat?”

A smile takes Nyssa's face and she sets her book on the stand next to the chair she is occupying. “I am afraid that is not so, _habibti_.”

Sara lets out an exaggerated groan and closes the laptop, setting it on the floor next to the couch. The blonde stands from the couch and climbs into Nyssa's lap, pulling her down into a kiss. She smiles up at Nyssa like the sun. “I guess I'll just have to remind myself why what I have is so important to me.”

Lips meet Nyssa's own and then she is chasing them as they pull away and smirk. Then they find her nose. “You are so _intelligent—_ so clever. It amazes me everyday.”

Another kiss is pressed to Nyssa's jaw. “You're strong, in mind and in body.”

Nyssa watches blue eyes dance with mirth as Sara adds, “You're _so_ hot."

The Heir rolls her eyes. “And there's the truth. She pretends to love me for my body.”

Looking scandalized, Sara pulls away. “I do _not_. Only. Love you for your body. I guess I'll just have to show you how much I love _every_ part of you—and your hot body.”

Sara pulls Nyssa into a fierce kiss and grabs the hem of her top, dragging her towards their bedroom.


	5. lessons learned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nyssa and Sara are unwinding in a bar in Russia, when Sara fancies herself a hero and Nyssa lets it be a lesson to the new assassin. The tables turn when Nyssa realizes something for herself.

They're tucked into the corner of a seedy bar in Russia. Nyssa is sure to place herself in the corner, her back to the wall so that she can purview the occupants and their under-the-table dealings. She and Sara are only there at the end of a long mission to grab a drink and put the fire back in their bones that the Russian cold has pulled out. They, instead, find themselves listening to a pair of men talk about a shipment of guns set to arrive next week.

One of the men has dark hair, with a peppering of grey at his temples. He has a scar running down over his left jaw and sharp eyes. He is easily the most dangerous of the two. The other is more stout, has beady eyes, and smooth skin that speaks of an easy life. The older man must be running the operation of the ground, while the other man keeps himself pampered and above the work he masterminds.

Halfway through her meal, Sara puts her fork down and starts paying more attention to the men. The heavyset man grabs a skittish girl walking by. A few moments later money is exchanging hands, and the girl starts pulling at the meaty hand clamped around her wrist. The fat man starts dragging her up the stairs to the rooms above the bar and that's when Sara has had enough.

The blonde stands abruptly and turns toward where the two men and the girl are. “You're going to have to let her go.”

The larger man guffaws. “And what are you going to do about it?”

Taking a deep breath to quell the rage swelling within her for just a moment longer, Sara folds her arms behind her back where she wraps her hands around the hilts of two knives she keeps tucked at the small of her back. The blonde takes a step forward and snarls, “You'll find out.”

Just as Sara is about to lash out, the older man stands and says softly in Arabic, “ _If you attempt to strike this man, League Assassin, I will have to intervene and it will not end well for one so young as yourself_.”

Hearing the foreign language roll from his enforcer's tongue gives the fat man pause. He looks between the enforcer and the assassin before he scoffs and starts pulling the girls arm anew. Sara looks at him sharply and whips a dagger at his shoulder. Before she could even see him move, though, the enforcer is in front of his employer and had caught the blade between his forefinger and thumb.

From where Nyssa watches, she can see that Sara is shocked and wary. Nyssa can see the experience this man wields as easily as she can see the blonde of Sara's hair. However, it looks like her little bird's set on her righteous path and will not be dissuaded, so Nyssa lets the ensuing fight happen without intervening.

In the aftermath, Nyssa walks among shattered glass and splintered wood to where Sara is laying on the ground, chest heaving as she struggles to catch her breath. The fat man and the enforcer are crumpled on the ground next to her, and many other patrons that joined in were also splayed around the bar.

Nyssa is mildly impressed. Sara has only been with the League for four months now and while she would be spending some time in the infirmary, Ta-er al Sahfer has found the justice she sought. She moves to stand over Sara and looks down at her with a stern look on her face. “Foolish bird, you're lucky you are walking away from this fight.”

Sara just groans and tries to sit up but fails. Nyssa crouches beside her and gets and arm around her waist and throws Sara's arm over her shoulders. “I suppose walking out of here is a stretch. An assassin does not fight a battle he cannot win unless it is the will of the Demon and the very last resort. Let this day be a lesson to you.”

Where Nyssa expects a penitent look, she receives a tight, pained smile. “But I got to watch that girl run out of here on her own, Nyssa, and that's enough.”

Nyssa supposes it is.


	6. workouts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nyssa and Sara had a few hours set aside to go to the gym, but decide on another workout instead.

The capris are black with a maroon stripe down the side of each pant leg, with a matching black with maroon trim sports bra. Nyssa's hair is pulled into a high ponytail and she has a gym bag slung over her shoulder. It's the first time Sara has ever seen Nyssa look so...normal. Still breathtakingly beautiful, but were they strangers passing on the street, she would never have guessed this woman is the heir to the League of Assassins.

Nyssa's flat stomach ripples as she shifts her weight and Sara can't help her eyes from wandering. “You're incredible, Nyssa.”

A smirk lifts one side of Nyssa's mouth and she arches a brow. “Me? Or my body?”

“Would you hold it against me if I said both?” Sara snickers.

“Your humor is obnoxious,” Nyssa says even as she pulls Sara against her, sliding her hands up Sara's shirt.

The blonde kisses Nyssa, soft before nipping at her bottom lip. Then she pulls away, sighing as Nyssa's warm hands fall from under her shirt. “Let me go get changed so we can get to the gym before the after-work rush starts.”

Sara turns to walk away but pauses when Nyssa says playfully, “I can help you get undressed...if you wish.”

“We won't beat the rush.” Sara warns, looking at Nyssa out of the corner of her eye.

“I suppose we could trade one workout for another. We will just have to ensure our heart rates stay elevated.”

Sara's top hits the floor before Nyssa's finished her sentence. “I can get on board with that. Come take my pants off.”


	7. bonds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara makes a spur of the moment decision.
> 
> AKA 
> 
> Sara gets a tattoo and Nyssa is more pleased with it than she expected.

The buzz of the tattoo gun lulls Sara into an almost sleep, the pain long faded into a gentle burning. A red arrow supports the Arabic words _Ta-er al Sahfer_. The blonde had snuck out of the room she and Nyssa were sharing in Somalia, a mission and an angry lover awaiting her return.

It's a couple hours later when she leaves the tattoo parlor, shoulder blade sore, but satisfied. She returns to the hotel room and quietly opens the door, knowing that, despite her attempts, Nyssa will still be awake. She is proved right when she is greeted with a throwing knife in the door beside her head.

“Consider that a warning for your tardiness,” Nyssa says, displeased. “Where were you this morning?”

Sara steps forward, pulling her top off as she moves. It bares her breasts and she smirks when Nyssa's eyes pull downward, despite seeing the woman fight the urge. She allows Nyssa's eyes to rove her naked torso before she turns and shows her the tattoo.

Nyssa stands and moves behind Sara, gently moving her hair over her shoulder, running the pad of her finger over the red skin surrounding the new tattoo. “ _Habibti_...”

“Despite your thoughts on the matter, I will never stop loving you. And even if I do, I will never regret you teaching me to be strong and I will never regret us.” Sara shrugs. “I woke early this morning and was looking at your League tattoo when it occurred to me.”

Lips a thin line, Nyssa wraps her arms around Sara's waist, before sliding them upwards and grabbing her breasts, one in each hand. She abandons her irritation in favor of biting down on Sara's neck at the same time she rolls one of her nipples between her fingers. She slides her other hand into Sara's pants, rubbing at her clit just until Sara's breathing starts to pick up before she walks away and slides her quiver over her uniform.

“Put your clothes back on. We have a mission to complete,” Nyssa says, smirking as she walks out the door.

Sara dresses hastily and rushes out the door behind Nyssa, her body thrumming with unspent energy and she decides that she will make Nyssa regret her actions, much later, when they have made all necessary reports and returned to their quarters, not to be disturbed for hours.

– 

Almost 24 hours later, a long, loud cry sounds from the Heir's chambers, but the assassins within earshot would rather battle with Ra's al Ghul than seek to see if the Heir is fine after the last time they attempted to ascertain her well-being when cries emerged from her rooms.


	8. why not time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Legends are visiting 2026 and Sara is suprised by a familiar face.

" _You can never keep yourself out of trouble, can you, Ta-er al Sahfer_?" a voice asks in Arabic, coming from a dark-haired woman striding into the park. 

It's been literal decades since Sara has seen this woman's face and laying her eyes upon it now is like a lungful of fresh mountain air, like coming home. It's 2026, and the Legends of Tomorrow are trying to track a stolen shipment of weapons 300 years too advanced for this point in the timeline. 

They're somewhere in Europe and she never expected to see a familiar face in this no-name town next to a lazy river in France. The face before her was more familiar ten years ago, but Sara will never forget _her_  face, though deeper lines and the beginning wisps of silver hair frame the square jaw. 

" _Nyssa_ ," Sara breathes and a true smile breaks out on her face. "When are you?" 

"You've been gone for ten years, but you visit every year on our anniversary." Nyssa's lips are turned in a sad smile. 

"I'm sorry it has to be this way, beloved. There will come a time that I will return to 2016 and to you. We will spend the rest of our lives together, but I have to ensure that we have a future to live out." 

"I can't say that I understand, Sara, but I will always wait for you." Nyssa's chin raises as she pulls her hands from her pockets and grabs Sara's face between her hands and kisses her deeply. 

Somewhere in the background, Sara can hear Mick catcalling but it doesn't matter. All that matters is the scent of Nyssa al Ghul pouring over her, her hand tangled in dark hair. If she tunes out the rest, all she hears is the gurgle of the river and the feel of Nyssa's lips against her own. Memories they may not have even had dance behind Sara's eyelids. 

"You've been in town for a few days," Nyssa says after they pull apart, hands still curled together. 

"How'd you find me?" 

Nyssa smiled slow and languid, eyes flashing. "Did you not think that Ra's al Ghul would hear about a single rogue League member taking out several warehouses full of men?" 

Sara shrugged one shoulder, bumping it into Nyssa's. "I didn't think any of those men would recognize it. The League's really fallen into the shadows in this time." 

They talk amicably on a park bench while the rest of the Legends finish cleaning up from their fight. Stein approaches the pair cautiously. "We should be going, Ms. Lance." 

Sara studies Nyssa's face, aged by years Sara has not endured with her and it breaks a part of her soul. She loves Nyssa in every facet of her being and she is the home she always speaks of returning to. She grabs Nyssa's face and kisses her hard and for so long, even Ray is yelling, "Captain Lance!" 

"Captain Lance," Nyssa smirks, leaning her forehead against Sara's. "Your ship awaits you." 

Sara kisses Nyssa again and presses a small device into her palm. "If you ever need me, just press the button and I'll be there, no tracking required. For now, it's all I can offer." 

Nyssa steals another kiss and speaks in Arabic, " _Your love is all I have ever needed, Ta-er al Sahfer. I trust that someday, you will come home to me and perhaps I'll never have this memory, but we shall create so many more._ " 

" _You can still come with me,"_ Sara says and hugs Nyssa tight and presses as much of herself into Nyssa as she can. 

" _You know I must stay with the League. It has always been my destiny, and it will now be my legacy. But do not doubt my love for you, beloved. For you, my heart shall always wait."_  

The tears fall from her eyes as she holds Nyssa close and kisses her long and hard, over and over again. Every goodbye is harder than the last, for Sara. She will remember every goodbye, even when Nyssa cannot. But for every parting, there are moments of stolen time with the woman she loves, and Sara will trade all of the heartbreak of their goodbye's for just one more minute with Nyssa. 

Turning to leave, Sara pulls on a long black trench coat to fight the chilled fall air, and to cover the Canary's costume. She looks back at Nyssa, ethereal and beautiful on the park bench, and her chest clenches painfully. She quotes, "'Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope.' Why not time, too?" 

As Sara keeps walking, the crisp air carries the words, " _Goodbye, Beloved. Until we meet again._ " 


	9. trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara and Nyssa are on the run, cut off from everyone but each other. Nyssa's mother offers them a chance at survival, but will it be enough?

Pain lanced through Sara's leg and it buckled underneath her and her running momentum sends her sprawling to the ground. Seconds later, Nyssa is by her side, wrapping her arm around Sara's waist. The Heir screams as she pulls Sara to her feet, her broken ribs throbbing in agony. She half carries Sara as they run towards the forest.

Yelling and gunfire at their heels spurs them both on despite the pain. They run until Nyssa collapses and Sara half drags her several feet before she, too, collapses. She's whispering with the last bits of oxygen she has, “We have to keep moving. We have to—“

Sara is cut off by Nyssa gripping her forearm tightly and looking at her with panicked eyes. The blonde started to examine Nyssa's body, looking for what was causing Nyssa's immediate distress. The Heir grabs her side and gasps out, “Can't—“

“Breath with me. Breath with me.” Leaning down, Sara presses her forehead to Nyssa's and holds her panicked gaze. Between them, Sara's hand finds Nyssa's chest and holds her hand there, feeling her quick, shallow breaths. “In. And out.”

Sara levels her breathing and guides them both in a deep breathing exercise. She watches the panic lessen and lessen with every breath Nyssa takes. Once they are both breathing normally, they stumble into a standing position together and keep moving forward. If Sara strains, she can still hear their pursuers.

They keep moving as best they can for two more hours. They set small traps along the way hoping it might be enough to deter their pursuers. Their sounds behind them get less and less until it stops altogether. Then it is night. Their injuries slow them down, sometimes to a complete stop. They are on one of these particular stops when the night sky opens and rain begins pouring down.

They lay side-by-side, water and mud swirling around them. Sara reaches out and grips Nyssa's hand, deciding this will be their last moments together. The pain and exhaustion is too much. She blacks out.

–

The first thing Sara registers is pain, then dampness and heat. Realization of self descends upon her and she blinks open bleary eyes. Her entire body is throbbing with every pulse of her heart, radiating from her leg, arm, and shoulder.

There is a fire beside her. She struggles into a sitting position and surveys around her. She seems to be in a cave and it takes a moment before she finds the other occupant of the cave, slumped against a wall. “Nyssa!”

Sara ignores her body as she drags herself to Nyssa as fast as she can. Relief washes over her like a wave when she finds a heartbeat. Her hands cup tightly around Nyssa's face as she pleas with her lover to wake. When she gets no response, she stands.

Grabbing Nyssa's ankles she drags her toward the fire, whispering a mantra as she tries to put most of the weight on her good leg, “Come on, come on, come on.”

Sara lays beside her, careful not to aggravate either of their injuries and listens to Nyssa breathing, calmed with every inhale, reassured with every exhale. She drifts in and out of consciousness. Unaware of how much time has passed, she wakes to find Nyssa also awake and the fire almost nothing but embers.

All they can do is look at each other until Nyssa whispers with a cracking voice, “You have to get more firewood or we will freeze long before we are found. I found some...by the door. You'll have to go farther, Beloved.” It looks like it takes all of Nyssa's energy as her eyes droop.

Sara listens to her breathing even out before she turns her gaze toward the mouth of the cave. She drags herself outside, little by little, every movement meticulous and painstaking. It takes what feels like hours that she's dragged herself far enough from the cave to find a stick large enough to help hold her weight.

She manages a mostly vertical position and hobbles deeper into the woods. It doesn't take her as long as she feared to find suitable firewood and she uses her jacket to drag it along behind her, using the stick and her good leg to bear the brunt of the work, but it is slow and exhausting.

On her way back to the cave, she catches the sound of a stream. She leaves her litter and starts moving toward the sound, every step made through sheer power of will. Carrying the litter has exhausted her, but finding water and getting it back to the cave might make the difference between their life and death.

Tripping over something, Sara falls into the mud at the bank of the river. She crawls forward and collapses at the edge of the river. She drinks as much as she thinks she can without getting sick. Peeling her shirt off, she washes it of the dirt and uses it to soak up as much water as she can. Turning around, she finds her stick and painstakingly starts the trek back toward the litter of wood. Once she finds it, she tugs away a corner of her jacket to set her water-soaked shirt on and begins her trek back to the mouth of the cave.

Dragging her litter of firewood over to the embers, Sara grabs her shirt and carries it over to Nyssa and rouses the woman enough to instruct her to drink. Wringing the shirt out over Nyssa's mouth, Sara watches as the other woman's throat struggles to swallow and is careful that her Beloved does not choke.

Once she is satisfied Nyssa has gotten some water, she decides to sacrifice her jacket and tears off the wet portion. She uses it to begin building the fire back up until it is roaring and she feels warmth seeping back into her bones. Nyssa is out again and she crawls over to her, curling her body around Nyssa's and finds sleep again.

It is dark when Sara wakes next. Nyssa is awake beside her, pale and sweating. The blonde whispers, “Nyssa.”

“Beloved, I am glad you are alive.” Nyssa's voice is barely audible. “My mother, she saved us. She showed me the cave.”

“Your mother is dead, Nyssa.”

“I know, Beloved, but it was not just fever dreams. I know it was her.”

“She gave us a shot, but Nyssa, I don't think we're gonna make it out of this one.”

Sara stares at Nyssa, tries to convey all the love she feels for this woman and, at the same time, longs for her dad, for Laurel. She pulls Nyssa into her arms and feels her heartbeat against her own chest. She feels Nyssa grunt at the pressure, but the Heir pulls her even tighter. The world goes black.

–

Ra's al Ghul strides into the cave, flanked by League assassins. He looks down at the broken bodies of his daughter and her Beloved curled together and can't find it within himself to confirm the inevitable. A flick of his wrist has a healer pulling them apart, and checking both for a pulse.

Wide eyes look up at him and his knees just barely shake when al Mualija says, “They are alive!”


	10. Blankets in Russia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A drabble from Tumblr. Prompt - Nyssara - blanket

They have a long-term mission in Russia and their cover has afforded them the best amenities. Their apartment is spacious and warmly decorated. Nyssa al Ghul misses the familiarity of Nanda Parbat, but the cozy blanket she’s snuggled with on the plush couch almost makes it worth it.

Cold bites into her arms and shoulders when the front door opens. A bundled figure walks in and begins stripping, various pieces of outerwear landing on the floor until Sara Lance is next to the couch, grinning down at her.

Nyssa pulls half the blanket up and motions Sara to join her. The blonde slides next to her, quick to cuddle up to the warmth. A shiver runs down Nyssa’s spine and–she will deny it even under torture–she shrieks when Sara presses her cold feet against her closest calf.

Sara’s laughter is as beautiful to her as the day she first heard it, and it warms away any chill the blonde brought with her. She even lets Sara press her cold nose against her cheek, smiling as she turns her face to kiss her.

They share warm, chaste kisses for a moment before Nyssa asks, “Did you get the information from Chekov?”

Sara pulls a USB drive out of her pocket and throws it onto the coffee table in front of them. “Done.”

Nyssa reaches out for it and is startled when Sara grabs her arm and swings a leg around her waist, pressing her into the couch, blanket twisted around them. They meet halfway and kiss with fervor, Sara’s hand sliding up Nyssa’s shirt, cold fingers pressed into the soft skin of her belly. “Perhaps we could review that later? I’m just so cold.”

It’s a flimsy excuse, but Nyssa is ever giving when it comes to Sara. She wraps her arms around Sara and pulls her close, her own hand going up Sara’s back, fingers sliding over her spine. “I’ll warm you up.”


End file.
